


Buddy Love

by Fluterbev



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Bad Puns, Childhood, Christmas, Gen, Holidays, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Pre-Slash, Quintuple Drabble, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-12
Updated: 2006-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluterbev/pseuds/Fluterbev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seasonal quintuple drabble (500 words) written for <a href="http://ts-secret-santa.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://ts-secret-santa.livejournal.com/"></a><b>ts_secret_santa</b> in December 2006. The prompt was 'The Holly & the Ivy'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buddy Love

“So, c’mon, Chief. Your turn. Tell me about the first girl you ever kissed.”

“Oh, man.” Blair paused. “You’re serious? Because I've got to tell you, Jim, you’re not gonna believe this story.”

“Try me,” Jim said. There was no better way to distract them both from their predicament than getting Blair to tell one of his tall tales.

“Okay, then,” Blair agreed. The strain in his voice was barely audible; he was doing okay, despite his discomfort. At least, Jim thought gratefully, neither of them were _badly_ hurt, even if they couldn’t get out of this collapsed building by themselves.

Blair broke into Jim’s pensive silence. “I was twelve years old,” he began. “Naomi and me were staying in this really nice commune at the time, spending the holiday season with some of Mom’s pagan friends. Lots of the other kids were born there, and they mostly had names inspired by nature. Sage, Lavender, stuff like that.”

“What did they call you, huh? Chihuahua?”

Jim jumped as a backhanded slap unerringly found its target – his chest - in the darkness. “They called me Blair, you dick! Which, in case you didn’t know, is Gaelic for field or plain, okay? So I fitted in just fine.”

“I stand corrected,” Jim said. “So, Field-Boy, what happened?”

Staunchly ignoring the introduction of yet another nickname, Blair carried on. “There was this girl there called Ivy. Man, she was something else. She was a year younger than me. Really smart, funny, and pretty as anything. We kinda teamed up while I was there. Anyway, on solstice eve, there was this big gathering. Everyone stayed up all night, waiting to greet the morning sunrise. We had a feast, singing, dancing, the works.”

“Sounds like a barrel of laughs,” Jim noted dryly.

Blair ignored him. “Ivy had gotten some mistletoe from somewhere. She was _so_ not shy, man, unlike me, back then. Anyway, at the gathering, she pulled it out, held it over my head. And this is the funny part.” Blair chuckled. “Just at that moment, _just_ as our lips touched, everyone started to sing ‘Heartbeat’.” It didn’t occur to me until years later how funny that was.”

It totally failed to occur to Jim, as well. “I don’t get it,” he said.

“Come on, Jim! This is your generation.” When Jim failed to respond, Blair said exasperatingly, “I was kissing Ivy, under the mistletoe, to the music of Buddy Holly! Come _on_ , Jim! How serendipitous is that?”

Jim grinned. “I guess you had to have been there, Chief, to get the full impact.”

“Whatever,” Blair said grouchily. There was silence for a moment. Then Blair asked, a little plaintively, “We’re gonna get out of this, Jim, aren’t we?”

Reaching out in the darkness, Jim nudged Blair encouragingly. “Yeah,” he assured him. “I can hear sirens. The cavalry is here, Chief. It’s not the day the music died!”

“You mean, I’ll get to kiss Peggy Sue again?”

“That’ll be the day!”

Blair groaned. “Oh, boy!”

 

 The End


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